


This Above All

by Aerial312



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:46:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29279409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aerial312/pseuds/Aerial312
Summary: Deanna comes to the painful realization that perhaps she and Worf are better as just friends. Post Series, pre-movies.
Relationships: Deanna Troi/Worf, William Riker/Deanna Troi
Comments: 1
Kudos: 22





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Watching Deep Space Nine, I couldn't help but notice that both Jadzia and Ezri suffered injuries having sex with Worf. It serves to reason that Deanna did too.

_" This above all: to thine own self be true"- Hamlet_

Deanna Troi sat on an examination table in Sick Bay waiting for Dr. Crusher to tend to a more pressing case. Her shoulders were aching and her hip was throbbing, but it was nothing serious. She was not exactly looking forward to the teasing she had coming from the dear doctor. 

"This is the third time this week!" Beverly laughed, approaching with her tricorder. 

"Yes," Deanna sighed. 

"The usual bruises and tenderness?"

Deanna nodded. "And something happened to my hip this time."

"Not as flexible—"

"Beverly!"

The doctor ran the scanner over Deanna's sore hip. "It's a strained muscle. Lay down."

Deanna complied. "I have to be on the Bridge at 0700. Will you be able to…?"

"I should be able to take care of it in about fifteen minutes. Eventually, it's going to be something that's not so instant a fix."

"I was afraid you'd say that."

"Isn't there any way to…" the doctor searched for a delicate way to phrase, "…be more careful?"

"You think we have not tried? He is very careful—"

Beverly snorted a laugh. "This is careful?"

"For a Klingon, yes. He has not broken a bone—"

"Yet." The doctor held a device over Deanna's hip and let it do it's job. "Please at least tell me the sex is amazing—"

"Beverly!"

"If I were putting up with injuries like this, it would have to be mind blowing." Deanna didn't say anything. "That's not exactly a ringing endorsement."

"This is not a conversation I want to have," Deanna told her. Beverly continued her work in silence. Deanna had always had a friendly relationship with the doctor, but this was striking a nerve. She was becoming less and less convinced that this relationship with Worf was a good fit. "At first it was exhilarating. So different from any other lover I've been with…"

"But three trips to Sick Bay later, its lost its charm?" Beverly chuckled wryly. 

"I want to enjoy it more than I am," she admitted quietly. "I've never had to work this hard for a relationship."

"Relationships are hard work," Beverly said.

"It has been a long time since I've have had a real one, and that was not nearly as much work," Deanna sighed. 

That wasn't a fair comparison though, she thought. With Will, the beginning of their relationship had been so easy, so passionate, the depth of their feelings scared them both. He was her Imzadi, and would always be in some way. 

"And how long ago was that?" laughed Beverly. 

"A decade," she answered, unclear if the doctor knew she meant the Commander. "Maybe I've just gotten used to casual, and comfortable…" And mind blowing, she finished in her head.

"All set."

"Thank you." Deanna stood and crossed to the door. "Beverly, you are the only one who knows about these injuries, other than Worf, and I'd like to keep it that way."

"As casual as we can be in this room, I would never break that trust."

<><><><><><><><><><>  
"Is that sundae everything you hoped it would be?" Will asked with a grin. 

"Mmm," Deanna nodded, mouth full of ice cream. "This chocolate sauce is outstanding."

"It's real."

"Where did you get it? On Bolan?"

"The only good thing to come out of that trip to that godforsaken planet. "

"I certainly hope you got more of it," Deanna laughed, taking a big bite. 

"You think I'd deny you some of the best chocolate in the galaxy?" 

She smiled. He was very pleased with himself. He leaned back against her sofa and watched her savor the rest of the sundae. Replicated ice cream with real chocolate. "The rest of your trip was a waste?" she asked, putting the empty bowl down and settling back against his arm. 

"They didn't want to talk. They shut down every proposal the other delegations brought." He slipped his arm around her shoulder. "I'm glad to be back."

"I can see that," Deanna smirked. His fingers were rubbing little half-moons on her arm. She closed her eyes. It was going to take a supreme amount of willpower to send him home tonight. He wouldn't put up a fight, he never did. On nights like this, sometimes things happened, sometimes they didn't, and that just how their friendship went. Things had been a little strained between them since she had started seeing Worf. He'd given her space to figure things out. 

The chime of the door snapped them both out of the comfortable silence. Deanna stood, reaching out mentally beyond the threshold. _::It's Worf::_

Will sat up straight, formal almost, and took his drink in his hand.

"Come in."

Worf entered, and Deanna crossed to him, kissing his cheek. "Hello."

"I'll leave you two alone," Will said, crossing to the door. "Good night." He had a fake smile plastered to his face. 

The door closed behind him and Deanna saw Worf had a concerned look. "Will brought me back some chocolate from Bolan."

"I do not think it proper that he was alone with you in your quarters so late at night."

Deanna raised her eyebrows. "He just returned from a trip. Will is my best friend. We have always spent time together like this."

Worf exhaled sharply. "He is also your former lover. It does not seem proper right now." Deanna crossed her arms. "A Klingon woman—"

"I am not a Klingon woman. As has become painfully clear." It was perhaps a little too pointed, but this snapped Worf out of his moral objection. 

"Deanna, you know I have tried not to hurt you."

"I do." She relaxed her arms and let him pull her close. 

"This whole relationship is very different. It takes a lot of adjusting to be with a human." 

"I know it does." Outwardly he was talking about the physical issues, but it could just as easily apply to what they had just been talking about. She was willing to not cross that line with Will while she was dating Worf, but she would not tolerate being told who she could spend time with. 

"I will try to be more open minded," he told her, leaning in for a kiss. 

Progress. Deanna led him down the hall to her room.

<><><><><><><><><><>

Deanna woke to her comm badge chirping. "Captain Picard to Counselor Troi."

She tapped it. "Yes?" 

"Please report to the Bridge. We need your assistance with a situation that is developing."

"I'll be right there." Deanna turned her head to look at the clock on the wall, and winced as her neck protested. 0430. She sat up with a struggle. Despite his best efforts, it hadn't been a gentle evening, and Worf was so frustrated by it that he had left early for his own quarters, claiming an early rise. He had wanted her to go directly to Sick Bay, but Deanna insisted she could wait til morning. 

She stood warily. Her hip was worse than last time, and she had a sharp pain in her right side every time she took a deep breath. Her upper arms were speckled with bruises and she was grateful for the cover the high-necked official uniform was going to provide. She should have gone to Sick Bay when Worf suggested it, because there certainly was no time for it now. This was going to be an interesting morning.


	2. Chapter 2

" This above all: to thine own self be true"- Hamlet

The turbolift opened on the Bridge, and Deanna stepped out, trying very hard not to limp. The Captain and Will were standing looking out at the view screen. 

"Ah Counselor," the Captain greeted her. "We have received a distress call from an approaching vessel. We are attempting to re-open communications after the signal cut out."

"We think there is a lot they aren't telling us, like what they're doing all the way out here in a ship like that" Will added, watching her closely as she made her way to their sides. She was moving slower than usual, and she knew he noticed. 

"I'll try to get a read on them."

"Sir," began a young officer at Comm, "they are still not responding."

"Keep trying," Captain Picard ordered. "Perhaps they decided they do not need our assistance after all. I'll be in my ready room."

"Sorry, we woke you for nothing," Will sighed, crossing back to his seat.

Deanna shrugged, holding back a wince. "It is peculiar if they have decided they do not need help after hailing us in the first place." She eased herself into her chair.

"Maybe they didn't like all the questions I was asking," Will said, then asked, lower, "Are you okay?" There was real concern in his eyes.

She nodded, and told him, "I just rolled out of bed." It was a weak excuse and they both knew it. He'd seen her roll out of bed many times. There wasn't usually a limp. He was still radiating concern, and his brow furrowed, but he nodded and let it go. For now. She was sure it would come up again. They sat in silence for some time.

"Commander, I've got them!" Comm announced. 

Will stood. "Collins, get the Captain. Commander Troi with me. On screen." Deanna stood beside him. The Captain appeared in his doorway, but gestured for Will to take control. "I ask again, what is the nature of your distress?" 

"Medical, sir," came the clipped reply. 

"You are awfully far out for a research vessel."

The man on the screen did not acknowledge this remark, but continued, "Five of our crew have died after a stop on Dakron II."

"Dakron II is not in this sector."

"It took some time to manifest."

"Are there others aboard who are ill?" Deanna asked. 

"Yes, ma'am. It has become difficult to staff the ship."

"Did you take anything aboard with you from the planet?" Will asked. "Anything that could be the cause?"

The man hesitated. "We gathered many samples as part of our research."

"Please transmit a list. We'll consult with our Chief Medical Officer and see what she can do for you." Will made a gesture to cut the screen. "Now we'll see if they actually provide a list," he said as the Captain crossed to them. 

"The medical need is genuine," Deanna told them. 

"But?" Will asked.

"I think they know exactly what caused this issue and don't want to tell us."

"Something they shouldn't have sampled?"

"Yes, that is my sense."

The Captain nodded, and turned to a young woman. "Lieutenant, bring up any information you can find about hazardous substances on Dakron II."

"Aye, sir."

"Counselor, can you fill in the doctor, and see if there is anything in the medical literature that she is aware of?"

Deanna nodded, and made her way to the lift. The door was just about to close when Will slipped in after her. 

"Thought I'd tag along." She pressed the button for Sick Bay and looked up to find him studying her closely. He wasn't going to let this go. "What's wrong?" he asked her in a tone that told Deanna she couldn't dismiss the question like she had before. 

She hesitated, trying to decide what to tell him. He threw the switch that halted the lift. "Will—"

"You're hurt."

"I…"

"You're trying to hide it, but you're limping. And something hurts enough that you're projecting the pain."

Deanna took a deep breath. "I did not realize that. My side and my hip are in pain. Thankfully, I am headed to see the doctor in Sick Bay," she added with false brightness. 

"How?" Will growled. "You were not hurt when I left at midnight." His expression darkened in a way that suggested he had some idea.

"There was nothing that was not consensual," she told him firmly. He inhaled sharply. "Will, I am a grown woman, and I knew what I was potentially getting myself into—"

"This has happened before?"

"Yes."

He turned abruptly towards the wall of the lift, and for a moment she thought he was going to punch it. Instead, he leaned into it with two straight arms and bowed his head. He took a few shuddery deep breaths. After a few moments, Deanna came up behind him and lay her hands on his back, letting her forehead rest between his shoulder blades. 

She felt him swallow hard before he said finally, "I don't like to see you hurt." His voice was hoarse and quiet. Now she was getting choked up too, to see him so upset about it. She slid her arms around his waist, and held on tight. Will was trying hard to calm himself. He stood up straighter and turned, wrapping his arms around her. Deanna relaxed against his chest. "I want you to be happy," he murmured into her hair. "Are you?"

"I'm not sure," she told him honestly. "There is something about that Klingon morality. Everything is black or white. Everything has archaic rules…" 

"And you are an empath from one of the most open planets in the galaxy."

"Yes," she smiled. "But it is in this way I feel like we may not be a good fit."

"I see." Will was treading carefully. His comm badge chirped, cutting of that line of conversation. 

"Captain Picard to Commander Riker"

"Go ahead."

"We have found a substance that may fit both criteria, valuable and very dangerous. We've sent the files to Sick Bay."

"Aye, sir, we'll follow up." Will flipped the switch to get the lift moving again, but did not immediately let go of Deanna.

"It felt good to talk about this, surprisingly. I think I know what I need to do." The door whooshed open, and they reluctantly broke apart. "Did you get the file from the Bridge?" she asked the doctor.

"Yes. Took you long enough to get down here," Beverly laughed, raising her eyebrows at Deanna in a way that let her know she'd seen their embrace when the door opened. "Sit. It is a rare ore. It's neurotoxic."

"Can you help them?" Will asked. 

"I think so. There is a method to chelate the molecules out of the blood, but—"

"They'll have to offload the stock they obtained," Deanna said, "which they'll be loathe to do, given it's value."

"Right," Beverly agreed, running her tricorder over Deanna while explaining, "if the substance remains on board, they'll just keep poisoning themselves."

"We'll have to see what they value more, the price tag or their lives," Will said. "I'll head back to the bridge. We'll hail them again. Spell it out."

"Do you need me for that conversation?" Deanna asked. 

Will hesitated. "When you're done here," he answered. Truly the answer was yes, but he clearly wanted her to stay with the doctor until she was healed. "Hell, it took twenty minutes to hail them last time."

"I can patch her up in less than that," Beverly told him. 

He locked eyes with Deanna for a moment, then left. 

"He is calmer than I would have expected. Lie down."

Deanna complied. "He wasn't," she sighed. "But it was a good conversation in the turbolift. If I want to be happy, I need to be true to myself. Worf is a good friend, but I think it needs to be just that, a friendship."

"A friendship like you have with Will?" The doctor asked, raising an eyebrow. 

"No," Deanna smiled. "Worf would never be comfortable in such a casual…not with his values. It's different with Will. It always has been."

The doctor seemed intrigued, but Deanna left it at that. She'd never told Beverly about her Imzadi bond with Will, and now certainly wasn't the time for that saga. 

"All set," Beverly declared. "Hopefully the last time."

"Yes," Deanna answered. "It will be."


End file.
